


Warm Sand

by Morpheus626



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: This piece was inspired by this art: https://freebooter4ever.tumblr.com/post/186820082889/something-about-new-boys-and-sweating by @freebooter4ever (thank you again for letting me write something for this!!!) Please go give the artist a follow; they're a wonderful artist and fantastic person all the way around!!!
Relationships: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Kudos: 5





	Warm Sand

The sand is warm beneath his calloused hands. If it weren’t for the scent of rotting coconuts and the salt from the water still stinging the open wounds on his feet, he could almost pretend he’s elsewhere. 

On a vacation, maybe, without a care in the world. 

The shouts of the other men, still bathing in the ocean, echo as he lays back against the sand, his dog tags falling to the side as they slip back and off his chest. They aren’t men right now, or soldiers, but kids (some of them at barely seventeen still truly are) splashing at each other and teasing. It’s not quite fun, but it’s at least somewhere near it. They haven’t had that in a good long while. 

He contemplates joining them again, but that would mean giving up his little hideaway. Near the water, so close it laps at his feet, but behind enough trees and brush that no one could find him unless they came over and searched. And no one’s going to do that. There’s no bad blood between any of them; they just need their space for a bit. 

At least, space and time away from most of them. There’s one particular face in his mind as he lounges and listens to the waves crash. He wouldn’t turn that face away. 

The brush ruffles and shakes as Sledgehammer, shirtless and dripping water, comes crashing through it, a mildly bewildered look on his face. 

“Think of angels and they do appear,” Snafu whispers low, moving to sit up on his arms, a smile spreading across his face. 

“What?” Sledgehammer brushes the leaves away from himself and out of his hair, and Snafu bites back his laughter. He’s not a boot anymore, but bless him if he doesn’t still have his moments. 

“Nothin’,” Snafu replies instead, and pats the sand beside him. “Sit down and relax before they find us and ruin this.” 

“This…” 

“Peace. Quiet,” Snafu elaborates. “I know you probably don’t think of me when you think of ‘quiet’ but…” 

Sledgehammer giggles, and it’s the sweetest sound he’s heard in ages. 

Sledgehammer drops beside him, and even after leaning back and closing his eyes again, Snafu can feel him looking, feel his eyes wandering. 

“How the hell did you find this place anyway?” 

“On accident. Was wanderin’, trying to to avoid all the goddamned crabs, then here I was,” Snafu replies. “Figured I’d stay put, enjoy it while I can. While it’s still a secret.” 

He hears the sand shifting, and reaches over to grab Sledgehammer’s wrist to stop him. 

He opens his eyes to find Sledgehammer staring down at him, eyes wide. He’s stopped except for his other hand, nearly on Snafu’s chest, still reaching for the bare skin. 

In that moment, he’s aware that they have a choice to make. They’ve been dancing around it all, in the precious few moments they’ve had outside of the gore and sound of gunshots, where the feelings and tiniest bit of flirting push through, where there’s the softest and quickest of touches, a hand lingering just a moment too long as they load a mortar. 

If they don’t do something now, they never will. 

He lets go of Sledgehammer’s wrist slow, only that isn’t right. This isn’t Sledgehammer, or rather it is, but they’re so far away from the war and the horror and the rot that he can see beyond. Can see Eugene, the soft and nervous man who’d walked into their tent, half brave and half afraid. Sure, this is Sledgehammer, but not right now. Just Eugene, his face flushed as he straddles Snafu carefully, ever so slowly, like they’ll both break the second they touch. 

His heart feels like it’s about to pound out of his chest as Eugene settles on his hips, running a finger delicately down his chest. 

He has one hundred thousand things he wants to say to him, but they’re all constricted in his throat and chest. He settles for moving to lean up on his arms, just enough, so he can kiss him. 

It’s shaky and nervous, but it’s the best kiss he’s ever had. Judging by the fervent blush coloring Eugene’s face and down his neck and chest, he must feel the same. 

He’s content to stay like that, with Eugene in his lap, blushing and adorable. But eventually, they’ll be called away, and he can’t bear to leave things like this. 

“Was that…that okay?” he asks, and surprises himself with how shy he sounds, how his voice wavers. 

“Yeah,” Eugene smiles, looking away for just a moment, like he’s overwhelmed enough he can’t even keep eye contact. “I really wish we weren’t here right now. I mean, that we were together, but somewhere else, without anyone else, because…” 

He trails off and sighs. “You know what I’m gettin’ at, right?” 

Snafu nods, a particular vision of them in the backseat at a drive-in theater playing in his head. It’s one that’s played many times before, at night when he’s trying to sleep in the foxhole, but having it play now with Eugene in his lap is a whole other ballpark. 

They both fall silent for a moment, listening. Just to be sure no one is stumbling near their spot, to interrupt them. 

“Is this…I mean,” Eugene starts. “We’re…” he seems to be tripping over the thoughts, Snafu can almost see the wheels of his mind working overtime in response to it all. 

“Yeah. We are,” Snafu replies confidently, and holds him close with one hand as he flips them around, trying to ensure Eugene’s bare back doesn’t hit the hot sand and bits of rough coral too hard. 

He’s well aware that anyone who walks even a bit too close could hear them, the sounds of kissing and half-bitten back moans. He doesn’t care. He thought he’d go the whole damn war, maybe even the rest of his life, yearning and pining after Eugene with no chance to act on it, to see if it was reciprocated as strongly as he’d hoped. 

But he’s here, warm and needy and wanting beneath him and it’s even better than he’d dreamed (and oh how he has dreamed.) 

They don’t have to speak to know that they can’t take it any further for now. They need more privacy for that, more time (because Snafu wants to take his time with him, so that it feels never ending.) 

They get another ten minutes of it, lips and hands and sighing against each other’s necks, before they hear Burgin calling. 

He pulls himself up and away from Eugene quick, giving them both just enough time to settle onto their stomachs, as if they’ve only been resting on the warm sand. 

“You ladies sunbathin’?” Burgin laughs. “We were starting to think we’d lost you two somehow.” 

“Nope. Here in Paradise,” Snafu sighs. “Just enjoyin’ the breeze. Don’t you love that scent, Burgie? Dead coconuts, mixed with more dead shit?” 

“Jesus, Snaf,” Burgin snorts. “In any case, y’all got five minutes to finish up your tans, then we’re movin’ out.” 

“Thanks for lettin’ us know, Burgie,” Eugene chirps, his cheeks still pink. 

Burgin’s gaze lingers for a moment, moving back and forth over each of them, and he smiles as he walks away, but if he suspects anything he doesn’t hang around to confirm it, the sound of his footsteps in the sand slowly moving away. 

“That was close,” Eugene smiles as he flips onto his back. “Holy shit.” 

“Yeah, but I think you liked it. Almost gettin’ caught,” Snafu teases. At least he hopes he liked it as much as it seems. He knows he liked it. “Kiss before we go?” 

Their lips are chapped, but Eugene’s kiss is still the softest thing he’s ever felt. It lingers long after they’ve gotten up and finished dressing to rejoin the others, long after they’re miles away in a newly dug foxhole. He swears he feels it tingle as Eugene brushes his fingers against his hand, just sparingly enough to not raise any attention. To anyone else, it looks like Eugene just can’t get comfortable and keeps falling into Snafu’s little bit of personal space. 

He really wishes he’d fall back onto his lap, but he knows that’ll have to wait. He’s more than willing to, if it means they can really enjoy it the next time.


End file.
